


Good Intentions, Better Results

by aurics



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Birthday Presents, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurics/pseuds/aurics
Summary: Jeonghan is trying to send Mingyu a message through his birthday gift. It never occurred to him that he might be sending the wrong one.





	Good Intentions, Better Results

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riveting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riveting/gifts).



> Some trashy gyuhan for the trashiest enabler a girl could ever ask for. Happy birthday luv! ♥ sad that I can't be there to celebrate with you, but I hope this somehow makes up for it :( ♥♥♥♥

With the Spring break looming ever closer comes the flurry of assignment deadlines tripping over each other in an attempt to maximise every students’ suffering, and unfortunately Jeonghan—being an avid believer in the ‘play hard, work later’ culture—finds himself caught in the epicentre of it.

Blearily, he swipes the stack of textbooks and laptop off the coffee shop table and almost knocks his phone to its death on the hardwood floor, thankfully catching it just in the nick of time. It’s buzzing repeatedly—he must be pretty out of it, not to hear such a grating noise against the table earlier—and he unlocks it to find a notification from Reminders, the three exclamation marks indicating the event as one of Utmost Priority.

_(!!!) Today: Mingyu’s b-day!!!!!_

Fuck, and he hasn’t even so much as sent his boyfriend a text message. Or bought him a gift, for that matter. He checks his watch. He’s only got a little less than half an hour until his string of class-seminar-club meetings begins, and that will last until god-knows-what-o’clock. But on the bright side, he’s right in the middle of town. It can’t take _that_  long to pick something out, right?

He crams all his belongings into his bag, swings it across his torso and dashes out of the coffee shop, only a vague idea of where to go to buy Mingyu’s birthday present in his head. They haven’t been dating for that long, and although Mingyu is one of the most transparent people Jeonghan’s ever met in his life it makes gift-shopping an even harder task than usual. It seems like Mingyu would love just about _anything_ anyone gets for him. But Jeonghan doesn't want his present to just be  _anything_. Not really, anyway.

Now, Jeonghan is nothing but an honest man who seeks help when he needs to, so he decides to employ the aid of the most trustworthy freshman on campus who also happens to be one of Mingyu’s closest friends since high school.

“Hi hyung… do you need... something?” Seokmin sounds scared and cautious over the line, which chafes Jeonghan’s feelings a little.

“What have I ever done to you to warrant such a cold response?” he sighs dramatically, but time is ticking and as much as he enjoys it, he’s going to have to skip the banter and get straight to the point. “I need your help."

There’s shuffling in the background, then a barely audible whimper. “Oh no…"

“It’s for Mingyu’s birthday,” Jeonghan bulldozes on, stopping in front of a large department store that seems to carry everything from household items and food to clothes. “I’ve been _drowning_  in schoolwork and forgot to get him a present."

“Oh, okay.” Even through the phone, Seokmin sounds markedly relieved by Jeonghan’s request that proves to be more innocent than initially presumed. Jeonghan resists the temptation to grouch about assumptions as he steps through the sliding glass door. “Uh, okay. Well. He likes food?"

“I know, but food items are… _perishable_ ,” Jeonghan says the word distastefully, like it personally offends him. “A few months from now he’d forget I even got him anything for his birthday, you know? Nah. It has to be something that lasts."

Seokmin hums, the sound of plates clinking loud in the background. He must’ve been eating lunch at home, and Jeonghan is suddenly aware of how empty his stomach is (apparently two cups of coffee aren’t sufficient substitutes for lunch). “Alright. Point taken. How about new cooking utensils?"

“What? And send the message that he should stay in the kitchen while I go out and become the breadwinner? That’s not going to fly."

“Mingyu’s a _culinary arts_  student,” Seokmin sighs exasperatedly. “If you do a bit of research, dig into your pockets a little and get him something he really needs, I’m sure he’d appreciate it a lot."

“I’m a college student, I don’t have the budget to be extravagant,” Jeonghan rebuts, slipping past the rows of shoes on display. “Anyway, Mingyu is always going on about how it’s the thought that counts. That means the _message_  behind the gift should be a priority."

“Yeah, I guess…” Seokmin mutters. “Kind of hard to be sentimental when you’re hunting for a present so last-minute, though, isn’t it?"

Just then something catches Jeonghan’s eye; a big, laminated red sign pointing downwards to a black shelf just off the rack of work slacks in the Men’s section. _Clearance sale_ , it says, though Jeonghan isn’t sure what holiday season the store is clearing out after. Valentine’s? That seems too far away, but he’s not about to question marketing strategies when there’s—crap—about fifteen minutes left until his afternoon class.

“Hey, Seokmin,” Jeonghan says slowly. "There’s a clearance sale rack."

“Hyung—"

“I’m getting him something from there."

“You can’t give your boyfriend a gift from the _clearance rack_.” Jeonghan has to hold the receive away from his face on the account of Seokmin sounding absolutely shrill. "What message would _that_  send?"

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I can get Mingyu something nice, and there’s no need for him to be aware of its source.” It’s a philosophy Jeonghan takes seriously, and he privately marvels at how great of a philosophy it is as he rummages through the shelf. “There’s a bunch of cute-looking chocolates here. Do you think he’d appreciate those?"

“Didn’t he get chocolates for Valentine’s already?"

“…I didn’t give him anything for Valentine’s."

The silence over the line is heavy with unspoken disappointment and disapproval, courtesy of Seokmin. "Why are you guys dating again?"

Jeonghan doesn’t even try to acknowledge the jab with an answer. “How about a bubble machine? He’d probably like playing with it in the park, right?"

“Jeonghan, Mingyu is neither a dog nor five years old."

“Okay, okay.” Jeonghan picks through more chocolate with tacky packaging, overdue holiday cards, keychains, a bunch of other things no healthy, sane college boy would ever need or want. He’s about to give up when the next shelf down features neat stacks of black boxes, blank and sleek with plastic covers showing off the cloth pattern through the packaging. He’s seen these many times before, usually in more high-end shops—dainty handkerchiefs probably meant to be tucked into suit pockets or similarly pretentious uses, but Jeonghan has other uses for them in mind.

"Hey… how about a handkerchief?” he picks one up—plaid, the classic navy and red combination; classy—and turns it in his hand. There’s tiny writing on the back, but much of it is covered by the huge label to display its bargain price, one that has Jeonghan humming in approval. Not bad.

“That’s something you’d get your father, or even grandfather,” Seokmin deadpans, but Jeonghan tuts and shifts the phone to his other ear.

“No, listen. You know how he’s always sneezing into his hand and wiping it wherever the fuck he wants?"

“Oh, _gross_ , I don’t need that mental image on this beautiful afternoon."

“Disgusting right? So what better present to give him than a handkerchief?” Jeonghan holds the box up. “It’s like I’m trying to say… ‘I care about your health, I want you to keep the germs away so you can stay alive for longer.’"

“More like ‘stop being a disgusting pig for the sake of everyone around you.’"

“That too.” Glancing at his clock, Jeonghan curses. “Shit, I have like, five minutes before my class starts. Quick, navy or green?"

“Navy,” Seokmin sighs. “But please. Just get him some Valrhona or something with it, as a cherry on top, you know?"

“Oh my god, okay, okay.” Jeonghan grabs the nearest box containing a navy-and-red plaid handkerchief and half-jogs to the food section of the department store, scanning the shelves quickly until he finds the endless rows of chocolates. "He would’ve appreciated the handkerchief by itself, you know."

“I know, but you can’t take advantage of people’s kindness like that."

“I’m not taking advantage of it,” protests Jeonghan as he surveys the shelves. “I’m just trying to meet expectations, and it’s not my fault he sets his expectations for this relationship so low. By the way, I’m getting the dark chocolate."

“Sure you are. And yes, good, that’s his favourite chocolate to cook with."

“He mentioned that once to me. Perfect.”

With a flurry of _thank you_ s and a promise to get Seokmin coffee one day, Jeonghan all but bolts to the cashier and forks over what leftover lunch money he has for the week, not even worried about the fact that he’ll have to make do with subpar canteen food for a while. It’ll be worth it. All he can think about is the excited face Mingyu will surely make when he sees the gift Jeonghan’s put so much thought into.

 

 

*

 

 

 

Mingyu looks confused by the gift.

“What did I do wrong this time,” he stammers when Jeonghan approaches him, the wide grin on his face quickly falling into a pout.

“It’s your birthday!"

Mingyu backs into a corner of his dorm room and holds up one of Jeonghan’s books as defense, the one he left behind a couple of nights ago after crashing on Mingyu’s comfortable beanbag to pull an all-nighter despite his initial protests (“Go back to your room hyung, you’re going distract _me_  instead.” “You’re too chicken to do anything about it, though. You’ll be just fine."). Though their relationship is still a little timid in its infancy, Mingyu’s hesitance is borne from a lack of experience and naivety rather than distrust and fear, which is only to be expected from someone his age. And Jeonghan is fine with it, is willing to let Mingyu steer their relationship at his own preferred pace of more talk and jest than anything else until they’re comfortable enough, hopefully, for Jeonghan to leave behind more than just a couple of textbooks in Mingyu’s dorm room. Until that day comes, however, he’ll revel in what implicit examples of intimacy he happens to come across in their daily lives.

“You never buy me gifts. _Never_.” Mingyu emphasises with a glare, snapping Jeonghan back to full attention. “Not for Christmas, not for Valentine’s—so why start now?"

There’s no way for Jeonghan to deny these claims, to be honest, but he makes a quiet resolve to work on his gift-giving habits. “Those are just mainstream holidays with no real significance to us. But this—it’s your _birthday_.” Jeonghan musters the best kicked-puppy face he has. “And you deserve something nice on your birthday."

“What."

“Come _on_ , Mingyu, is it so hard to believe?” Jeonghan huffs, thrusting the small gift bag into his hand. “Look, I even hand-wrote a card for you."

At this, Mingyu’s eyes widen slightly and he chances a peek into the bag like one would a snake enclosure. After deeming the contents sufficiently harmless, Mingyu looks up with a lopsided grin and picks up the two bars of chocolate that must have stood out like a sore thumb—Jeonghan hadn’t bothered wrapping them up. “Valrhona? This is really good chocolate for cooking, you know?”

Picking his way through the mess he’s made of Mingyu’s dorm room—the boy has a stash of snacks right by the front door, of course Jeonghan would capitalise on the opportunity—he sits down next to Mingyu at the edge of his bed, watching him pick at the tiny bow on top of the small, flat box of a present and cradling the chocolate like they’re bars of gold. “I know, did some quick research. They said this was one of the best for baking."

“Also pricey.” Mingyu shifts in his place, frowning as he peers at Jeonghan’s expression. “I hope you didn’t spend too much…"

“Don’t say that. Your birthday happens only once a year, I’m happy to splurge a little,” he shifts closer and nudges at Mingyu’s shoulder. “Happy birthday."

“Thanks.” The smile Mingyu sends him is the one that Jeonghan first fell for—charming, disarming, charismatic yet naive all at once; a mismatch of binaries that he can’t help but be drawn to. He grins back.

“Okay, now hurry up and open the present. I want to see your reaction."

The smile dissipates from Mingyu’s face and replaced by a quick eye-roll. “Why did I think, for even a _second_ , that you’d let me savour this moment..."

“The basketball guys are going to call me up any minute since we’re supposed to have a meet for the upcoming tournament."

“So soon? Wow, time flies. Seems like it was only yesterday you were telling me about getting through prelims.”

It was also the day Mingyu asked Jeonghan out, blurting the proposal over the phone in the midst of Jeonghan’s exuberant recount of the match, making the latter laugh until he’s breathless as he struggles to say _yes, we can meet up for dinner tomorrow_. Jeonghan thinks it’s cute how Mingyu is only alluding to it, as if spelling it out would make everything seem too real and intense to handle.

“Right? So open the thing up. Now."

It’s like everything Jeonghan says goes into one ear and out the other with Mingyu, because instead he pulls out the white, rectangular envelope stuffed at the edge of the bag. “But I want to read your _handwritten_ card first."

Now it’s Jeonghan’s turn to roll his eyes. “Fine, but make it quick."

And Mingyu does, laughing at the giant puppy on the cover and reading Jeonghan’s scrawly handwriting with an amused glint in his eye, face like an open book that Jeonghan would happily read over and over again.

“‘ _Think hard about what I’m trying to say with this gift.’_ Of course you’d make me work for my present. I can’t catch a break with you, can I?"

“Just trying to shape you up into the best. And I’m trying to send a ‘message’,” he emphasises this by patting Mingyu’s thigh affectionately, only encouraged when Mingyu cracks another toothy grin and grabs his hand, intertwines their fingers together like he’s saying _thank you_  with every minute squeeze.

Jeonghan thinks Mingyu’s about to kiss him, is about to lean up to cut to the chase himself when the classic bell ringtone rips through their comfortable silence, and Jeonghan can’t help but despise his teammates at that moment. He fishes his phone from his pocket and groans when he sees the missed call and message left behind. “Great. It’s them."

“Already? I haven’t even opened the gift.”

Jeonghan swings a leg lightly and half-straddles Mingyu as he shakes the younger’s shoulder in mock frustration, laughing when Mingyu lets out a long whine. “That’s why I told you to hurry up, idiot."

“Right, right, sorry. Just go, it’s fine,” Mingyu pries Jeonghan off of himself. “I’ll open it soon. You go ahead,” he insists, when another call comes in while Jeonghan is about to lock his phone.

As Jeonghan struggles to put his shoes on and balance the phone between his shoulder and his ear, he half-waves and says, “Call me later, okay?"

“I’ll text you, you’d probably be dead exhausted when you get home.” laughs Mingyu. “ _Go_ , before they come here and get you themselves."

 

 

*

 

 

Mingyu doesn’t call _or_ text him that night, nor the next morning. Not even in the afternoon. It’s getting tiring for Jeonghan to check his phone surreptitiously every five minutes during his seminar, frustrated by his inability to do more than swipe down for his notification centre like an SNS addict. As soon as 1:30pm rolls around, he wastes no time before taking his leave and speed-walking to the café Mingyu is working part-time at—it’s a Tuesday, so he should be on the afternoon shift.

Sure enough, Mingyu is there, manning the cashier with his silly apron on and a dashing smile that probably convinces half the customers to buy seconds even when no one needs two full doses of caffeine. There’s only one other person in line, but Mingyu is so focused on counting up change that he doesn’t look up until Jeonghan steps up to the counter, foot tapping impatiently.

“Good afternoon, how can I—oh.” Mingyu’s sunny countenance is replaced by a bashful mood with none of the hostility Jeonghan had been expecting. _At least I haven’t offended him somehow._ “Hey. Didn’t expect to see you here."

“Why didn’t you call?” Jeonghan asks, crossing his arms even though he’s not actually mad at all. “If I wasn’t so busy I swear I would have knocked down your door and demanded a text right there and then."

Mingyu snorts, the corner of his lips tilting up. “ _That_  desperate? I opened your present, by the way."

He grins. “So you liked it?"

Jeonghan was expecting Mingyu’s signature smile and enthusiastic  _of course!_  as a response, not for the tips of his ears to look like they’re being set on fire. “I—see, this is why I wanted to wait until we could meet up and talk. To be honest, I—I had a hard time understanding what you meant by the gift."

“Really?” Jeonghan frowns as Mingyu’s gaze drops to the countertop, where he’s picking at the pastry crumbs that must have fallen off orders as distraction. “I mean… isn’t it pretty obvious? Don’t overthink it, the first thought that comes to your mind should be the right conclusion."

Mingyu’s face is colouring at the speed of a bullet train now, and Jeonghan can’t, for the life of him, understand why. “Don’t—don’t you think you’re being a little too forward? I know we’ve been taking things slow, but to—to suggest something like _that_  through a birthday gift—not that I hate it, I was just surprised, I guess—"

“Wait, wait a second, I’m missing something,” Jeonghan interrupts. “What do you mean 'a little too forward'?

"Too brazen, too frank. Bold, unabashed... shameless?" Mingyu squeaks by the end, and his face must be about a hundred degrees by now.

"Shameless? Since when did a handkerchief become an icon of  _shamelessness?"_

Mingyu looks up, cocks his head to one side and blinks owlishly. “A what?"

“A handkerchief. The present I got you."

“You didn’t…” Realisation dawns on Mingyu’s face like sunrise on fast forward as his eyes quickly enlarge. He grips the edge of his apron. “Oh my god, it’s not a handkerchief.”

“What?”

“Wait, let’s take this outside,” says Mingyu quickly, calling over his shoulder for one of his co-workers to take over as he walks around the counter, grabbing Jeonghan’s hand and leading him out of the café onto the sidewalk outside. Jeonghan doesn’t protest in the least, still too confused to even register the change in location.

“What do you mean it’s not a handkerchief?” Jeonghan deamnds, unable to hide his slight annoyance because even though his gift was, by normal measures, a bargain, if he isn’t getting his money’s worth—if Mingyu isn’t _happy—_ “Then what is it?"

“Um. It was—they were—uh—”

_They?_ Mingyu shifts in his place, bounces on his heels as he looks around the street like he’s checking for eavesdroppers, and Jeonghan thinks he knows what the answer is. Before he can guess, Mingyu leans forward to whisper almost frantically in Jeonghan’s ear.

“They were briefs."

Jeonghan stares in shock, his dreaded assumption being confirmed before he can even prepare himself. He can't help it—he bursts out laughing, bending over and clutching his stomach as the laughter wracks through his body so hard he can feel passersby skirt around him, but at the moment Jeonghan couldn't care less.

“Hyung, it’s not funny,” whines Mingyu, clutching onto his arm, which Jeonghan thinks is a statement that is very untrue because this has to be one of the—if not _the—_ funniest things that has happened in his life. “You asked me to think hard about what you’re trying to say with the gift. Can you imagine how many mixed signals the briefs were giving me? I asked Seungcheol-hyung what it might mean, and even googled the popular interpretation for gifting underwear. Every search result came up with the same conclusion: _they want to bed you!_ "

Jeonghan cracks up so loud he almost loses his head, because he really  _can_  imagine an awfully distressed Mingyu sitting on his single bed, the cottony, plaid briefs held gingerly between his fingers like they're a ticking bomb. When he looks up to see Mingyu pouting in fond exasperation, it’s hard to resist the grin from monopolising his face again. Jeonghan lets himself giggle as he straightens, steps closer to Mingyu and crowds into his personal space with a smirk, other patrons and passersby in broad daylight be damned.

“Are you wearing them right now?” he murmurs, fingers skating the waistband of Mingyu's jeans and gravitating dangerously close to his back pockets. Mingyu quickly grabs his wrists and pulls them away gingerly.

“ _Stop_ , not here,” he hisses, glancing around in alarm like Jeonghan had actually groped him in public. He clears his throat. “But uh—yeah. I washed them last night, and… yes, I’m wearing them."

“How nice of you, I feel truly appreciated,” coos Jeonghan, and in one swift motion he slips a hand into a back pocket and squeezes, earning him a yelp from Mingyu that causes laughter to bubble up his chest like sparkling champagne again. He doesn’t even mind the light slap on the shoulder he gets for it, or the scandalised look Mingyu sends in his direction. "Just so you know, the handkerchief was supposed to stop you from wiping your sneeze everywhere, you gross man."

“You’re ridiculous,” growls Mingyu, but Jeonghan knows it’s not really a complaint because he’s already leaning down to press their lips together, hand around Jeonghan’s wrist as if to prevent any further action but is in reality just a gentle press of the skin, Mingyu’s thumb caressing the inside of his wrist in slow circles. Jeonghan smiles into the kiss, lets his mouth fall open so Mingyu can tentatively lick into it. Like this, it’s hard not to want more from Mingyu, to take as much as he’s given, especially when Mingyu snorts into the kiss like it tickles.

 

*

 

Later, as they sit across from each other with Jeonghan’s foot poking at Mingyu’s in a playful gesture, Mingyu puts down his spoon and smiles with his canines.

“I know you got those boxers from the clearance shelf, by the way."

Well, shit. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure there are many examples of misleading packaging out there... I know cause I've been a victim...!


End file.
